


caveat emptor

by troubled



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eating Disorders, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 21:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubled/pseuds/troubled
Summary: it's never a fairy tale. he believes anyway: the tragedy, the kiss and the happily ever after.yunho gets into the business because his parents are dead and his sister is dying. he doesn't expect to find love, not in an industry that thrives on the perversion of such sentiment, but since when does life go his way?





	caveat emptor

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a prompt in my curiouscat inbox and of course i'm taking liberties (again). lowercase because i was planning to post this to my tumblr (edit: fixed the lowercase) but then it got longer and i got too invested. when life throws you a curve ball, you just gotta accept that it's gonna smash your face in.

*

Yunho gets into the business because his parents are dead and his sister is dying.

It's easier than he thought. 

They start him off easy. He’s new and eager and the director likes how enthusiastic he is, even with his lack of experience. They introduce him with a video on the website, ‘ _baby gay sucking his first real cock_ ’, and the title makes him cringe because it’s not his first time. His first time was with a boy who promised him the moon and the stars, who didn’t hold his hand in public but fucked him into his bed when his parents weren’t home. The same boy who moved to a bigger city after graduation, without looking back. Old wounds. He tells himself it doesn’t hurt often enough that he’s starting to believe it. Yunho watches the video once it’s live and takes notes, wincing at the dirty slurping sounds coming from his earphones. Choi Siwon’s cock is big, but he’d been nice and patient as he talked Yunho through the blow job. Murmuring praises and petting Yunho’s hair, calling him a _good boy_ every time Yunho managed to deepthroat him. 

Yunho had swallowed when Siwon came, but the director wanted different takes and they went at it several times. 

Three days later and his jaw is still sore. 

His video garners the highest view for a debut. He flushes when he reads the comment section: _i wanna see him get fisted, get his ass gaping. ain’t no way he’s a virgin, look at him swallowing that huge cock, what a fucking cum slut. bet he gonna enjoy getting dp-ed lmao._ They talk about his mouth, his teeth, his eyes as if he’s nothing more than body parts. To be used and discarded at will. They talk about all the things they would like to do to him and Yunho googles some of the more unfamiliar terms, turning slightly nauseous at the nastier kinks he finds. And realising that he’s now part of this perverse world, one that thrives on fucked up thrills and cheap voyeurism. The number of views keeps increasing through the night, ticking over into millions when Yunho’s alarm wakes him up from where he’d fallen asleep in front of his old laptop. There’s a text from Siwon sitting in his phone, a few lines to congratulate him on the popularity of the video. And to ask him out for dinner. _Just dinner, I’d like to know you better._ Yunho remembers the taste of Siwon’s cock at the back of his throat and feels like throwing up.

He agrees to dinner anyway.

And lets Siwon fuck him after, in the older man’s expensive apartment as classical music plays in the background. His head spins from the bottle of red wine they shared, still unused to alcohol and how it screws up his better judgement. There’s a picture of a pretty woman on the bedside table and her eyes stare at him as he gets fucked into the bed, moaning around the silk tie stuffed inside his mouth. Siwon makes him pancakes for breakfast the next morning, fucks him against the kitchen counter, again in the shower, and sends him home after lunch. Yunho takes another shower to scrub at the bruises Siwon left behind, staying there until the water runs cold. He pops a couple of aspirins and wears a turtleneck when he visits Jihye at the hospital, so she wouldn’t ask questions about the marks littering his collarbones. She’s still weak from the latest round of chemo, but at least she’d stopped crying over losing her beautiful black hair. And she’s complaining about the hospital food, trying to convince him to smuggle in some fried chicken the next time he comes around. 

“You look tired,” she says, curled up against the large teddy bear he’d bought for her fifteenth birthday. Her eyes are ringed with shadows, but they’re as sharp as shards of glass. “Is everything alright?”

Yunho pinches her cheek and grins when she squeaks in protest. “Just worry about getting better first. And then you can start nagging me.”

She bats at him, laughingly, but he can tell that she’s already getting tired. “Get a girlfriend, oppa.” 

He makes a noncommittal sound and holds her hands, watching as her eyes start to flutter closed.

“Someone should take care of you when I’m gone.”

Yunho doesn’t cry. At least not until he’s sure Jihye had already dozed off.

*

The producer is so pleased with his debut that Yunho is offered to do longer, better videos. More zeroes in the cheques. That’s the only thing he cares about. There’s also talk about an exclusive contract: SM Entertainment is always on the lookout for new talent and they seem to like what they see in him. _You have star quality, kid,_ one of the executives tells him. His hand sits uncomfortably high on Yunho’s thighs, his smirk just a touch too predatory. _But you still have a long way to go before you join the A-listers._ Yunho meets with the team in their brightly-lit office, listening intently as they discuss how they want to capitalise on his newfound fame. Masturbation scenes are popular and cost next to nothing to shoot, and it’ll be good to tease the viewers a bit more until they can reel in more regulars. Yunho bites the inside of his cheek when they tell him to take his clothes off and the way they scrutinise his body is much more humiliating than sucking cock for cash. 

They tell him to lose some weight and to start shaving regularly. They tell him to get a better haircut, maybe grow out his hair so it’s easier to grip. They tell him that while he’s very pretty, there are a lot of pretty (and prettier) actors in the industry. They tell him he’s not special, no matter what the number on his video says. They tell him to work hard and not fall in with the wrong crowd, because SM isn’t Y-fucking-G. They don’t need scandals to sell. Yunho nods along and signs some papers, a temporary contract. He’s advised to get an actual lawyer to discuss more permanent terms and is unpleasantly reminded that he’d dropped out of pre-law after his parents’ deaths. He shakes their hands at the end of the meeting, tells them how grateful he is for the opportunity and bows deeply before he leaves the room. He can hear laughter from behind the door, someone saying ‘ _he’s so polite, how cute_ ’ and someone else going ‘ _we should make that his brand; all prim and proper yessir thank you sir for fucking me today_ ’.

Yunho stands in the hallway, chest hollowed out and struggling to breathe.

*

For the first time in months, there’s enough money in his bank account that he’s now in the black. He pays off the rent, some of the more important bills and buys Jihye a new beanie. There’s a gym near his building and he becomes friends with a couple of the trainers, so they help him out when they’re not busy with their own clients. He sees a hairdresser. Cuts down on what he eats, counts each calorie with religious zeal, and Jihye asks him if he’s alright, her own gaunt face scrunched up into a scowl. He convinces her that he’s been busy working, which isn’t far from the ugly truth. She reminds him to eat or he might end up in a hospital bed right next to her and wouldn’t that be _tragic_? 

“You can let the nurses flirt with you,” she grumbles, poking at his rib. “They asked for your number at least once a day, oppa. Are you sure you’re not interested in any of them? What about Hyemi-unni? She’s very pretty? And the nicest!”

Yunho doubts Hyemi would be impressed once she finds out what he does for a living. “Jihye-ah,” he says, softly. She raises her eyebrows. “You’re the only girl for me.”

She makes loud gagging noises and hits him with a pillow, as he laughs and laughs and _laughs._

A week goes by until he’s called in to film his next video. The set is a simple bedroom and the stylist puts him in a white shirt, half unbuttoned, and loose pants. His face is made up, scars and many other imperfections covered by cream and powder. He’s given a script that’s in actuality just a list of things he’s supposed to say while he jacks off to an imaginary audience. Yunho goes through the words inside his head, but they feel awkward on his tongue and he’s afraid he’s going to fuck this up. Sucking Siwon’s cock didn’t require him memorising lines. The director must’ve sensed his discomfort and he takes Yunho to the side, gives him a glass of water.

“Pretend you’re doing this for someone you recently met. Tell him what you like, what you’d like him to do to you. Show him how you want to be touched.” The middle-aged man pats his shoulder, gives him an encouraging grin. Yunho can feel his spine loosening. “The script’s a _suggestion_. Say whatever comes to your mind. And just enjoy yourself, kid.”

He takes that advice to heart. He ditches the planned lines and sinks into the memory of being much younger, terrified of his sexuality and less experienced at pleasuring himself. Years of theatre lesson being put to use, although he doesn’t think his teacher would’ve approved. He speaks to the camera haltingly, confessing his darkest secrets with half-lidded eyes and shy smiles. _I’ve never done this in front of anyone before, b-but I don’t mind if it’s you. You’ll keep this a secret, right?_ Once he starts peeling his clothes off, he becomes bolder. Closing his eyes, tilting his head back, biting on his lips. Hitched, breathless moans spill from his mouth, legs spreading open easily. His grip on his cock is tight, calloused fingertips stripping heated flesh. _I like it rough, a little bit. So, so good — ah — I wish it’s your hands right— right here._ He flexes, pushing the tip of a dry finger against his hole. And then through the tight ring. _Next time — mmm… I’m close — ah! I’m — please let me come — please, please —_

The director calls ‘ _Cut!_ ’ just as Yunho collapses onto the bed, thick drops of come streaking his sweat-slick belly. His lungs drag in gulpfuls of air, mind buzzing with static and the too-late realisation that he might’ve gotten too carried away. Yunho winces when he pushes himself upright, expecting to be yelled at. What he gets instead, is unnerving silence. The director is staring at him with an incomprehensible look on his face, while the rest of the staff lingers in the peripheral. Nobody says anything for a few minutes, until someone starts wolf-whistling and the silence breaks into fragments. Yunho isn’t quite sure what had just happened, but he heaves a sigh of relief when they give him a bathrobe and usher him to the showers to get cleaned up. He changes into his own clothes and comes back to the director talking to someone on the phone. He skirts around the set, watching the staff wrapping things up. 

It looks as if he doesn’t need to do the scene all over again and while a large part of him is relieved, a voice inside his head insists that he can do better.

He _has_ to do better, so they won’t drop him. 

The director hangs up and comes over, a pleased smile uncurling across his tanned face. “You did good, kid.”

Yunho flushes, stomach clenching at the compliment. He ducks his head into a bow. “Thank you.”

“I’m looking forward to working with you again.”

He goes home and scrubs at everything, scalding hot water stripping off a layer of skin. It does little to make him feel better and the bibimbap he bought for dinner ends up in the trash can, untouched. The number on the scale decreases, but not fast enough. He feels inadequate, compared to others on the company’s website, who are polished and so, so beautiful. He spends more time at the gym. He eats even less. Throwing up after meals becomes easier. Jihye has taken to watching him critically during his visits and he keeps her distracted by asking about the nurses, even if he isn’t interested. He lets her give his number to Hyemi. He watches other videos on the website and thinks about how clumsy he must’ve been. How ugly. Hyemi texts him and he feels so bad about possibly stringing her along that he doesn’t reply. Jihye's condition takes a turn for the worse three days later and he sleeps at the hospital, praying to every god he knows so she’ll come out of this too. She does, but she spends most of her time drugged, sleeping. Hyemi brings him homemade lunches and whispers empty reassurances to him. He wants to tell her to stop, but her lies sound better than the doctor’s diagnosis so he lets her hold his hands as he counts each one of Jihye’s laboured breaths.

Most of the time, he drinks his coffee black and bitter and doesn’t sleep.

He wonders which will give out first, his heart or his body, if he loses his sister.

*

The hospital takes up so much of his time that he forgets about the video going live the month after. Siwon is the one who reminds him, calling to wish him luck. The website had been running five-second teasers, building anticipation in between more high profile releases. Yunho sits in front of his laptop when it drops and he exhales shakily before he clicks the _play_ button. In HD, he looks like someone else. A sweeter, better version of himself that he barely recognises. Yunho swallows and leans in to get a better look. The camerawork is a languid caress across his exposed skin, lingering over his lips, his eyes, the spread open vee of his legs. It’s manufactured intimacy, edited in such a way that it feels as though he’s right there in the room, looking at himself. As if he’s only an arm’s length away from the boy sprawled out on the bed. That must’ve been the focal point of this entire video: voyeuristic perversion at its most visceral form. 

Yunho drags the back of a hand over his mouth, dry swallowing again. He doesn’t realise how his accent became more prominent the closer he was to orgasming, but the sound system captured every rough syllable. Every hitched breath.

The Yunho in the video moans, low and dirty, moving his wrist in rough strokes, and Yunho bites his lip so hard it bleeds. 

He doesn’t look at the comment section. _Can’t_. Slams the laptop close just as the Yunho in the video comes.

He goes to the hospital and spends the night watching Jihye sleep. 

*

“It’s about time we move onto something more meaty.” Yunho winces at the word. _Meaty_. The executive either ignores his discomfort or doesn’t notice. She taps her pen on the papers stacked neatly on her polished desk. “I think you’re ready to ride with the big boys.”

The other executive _hmm_ s and looks at him, the calculating glint behind his spectacles making Yunho sit straighter. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s hard to find someone to match.” The criticism feels like a punch to his guts. First he’s too fat, now he’s too tall. Next they’ll tell him that they only need one leg instead of two. “Changmin’s coming back from Italy, right?”

“Yes.” The woman purses her lips. She points her pen at Yunho. “ _Him_? With Changmin?”

“We’ll do a trial run. Crunch some numbers. Put up a poll or whatever.” The man’s mouth slants into a smirk. His eyes don’t leave Yunho and they’re sharpened into pinpricks of voracious intensity. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

The woman gives him another look. “I’ll let him know.” She scrawls a few words on a notepad and rips it off, hands it over to Yunho. “Get to HR. And then wardrobe.” Her lips curl with distaste as she gives him a once-over. “I want some pictures where you don’t look like you just rolled out of a thrift store. For fuck’s sake, what do you spend your money on? Drugs?” She turns to her colleague, scowl deepening. “Are you sure you’re saddling Changmin with this disaster? You know how picky he is. If he comes bitching at me—”

The man’s smirk widens. He waves a hand at Yunho, dismissive. “I’ll handle it.”

Yunho just smiles and bows at them, nausea scraping the back of his throat as he makes his way down the hallway.

He can hear her voice hounding him:

_You’re not good enough._

*

**tbc**

*

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